The Epilogue
by Awasteofbytes
Summary: I rediscovered Big Wolf on Campus over two years ago and I loved the three seasons, but I was left a bit unsatisfied. I fixed that.


**The Epilogue**

June, 25th 0:08

State university Dormitory

"Tommy, you're awake?"

"Yes Merton, just like five minutes ago."

"That was never five minutes! That must have been a half an hour at least."

The blue light of Merton J. Dingle's alarm clock illuminated the small room for a couple of seconds.

"I take that back, it was five minutes. And news flash! It's still 86 degrees in here! I'm melting! MELTING!"

"Pipe it down Merton, the neighbours."

"By the way Tommy, you really don't need to stay in tonight for me," the Goth continued in a soft tone.

"It's too hot to wolf around, even for a full moon… Hey, you remember that time it was this hot with full moon back home and we jumped in the lake?"

"Actually Tommy, as I recall, _you_ jumped in the lake after you pushed me."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," the jock laughed softly.

"I miss Pleasantville," he continued.

"For the town, your folks, the lake or for escaping the history test of tomorrow?" the best friend of the Pleasantville werewolf inquired.

"All of it."

"Now I think of it, the test is technically speaking today…Ouch!"

June, 24th 17:30

Pleasantville

Sally Dawkins dried her hands quickly as he went for the door. She found a complete stranger; tall, black hair and ditto suit. The sweat drops dripped down his face. No surprise, thought Sally, with this weather we're having.

"Good evening, Mrs. Dawkins, I presume?" the man said friendly.

"That's me," said Sally gingerly. There was something about this man, something vaguely… familiar.

"I'm Jonathan Wolff, I'm with the Bureau," the man said as he showed his badge.

"Are you here for my husband the mayor?" she asked enthusiastically as her inner journalist surfaced, inspecting the badge.

"No, I am here for your youngest son, Thomas Dawkins. I would like to have a word with him," the fed replied.

"Tommy? But Tommy's at state U, what business do you have with my son? Should I contact a lawyer before we continue?" She inquired as the mother in her took over.

The Federal agent seemed rather off-balance by the news Tommy wasn't in the vicinity, but quickly recovered to answer the worried questions.

"Oh heavens, no! He isn't in any kind of trouble that I'm aware of, although I'm afraid we both have become victims of a bad joke. You see, I'm new with the Bureau, so I think my peers are having quite a laugh about the fact I drove down here for nothing."

"But I don't understand," said Sally confused, "If Tommy isn't in any trouble, why does the FBI need to talk with him?"

"It concerns his lycanthropy. We –or I, I should say- want to offer some help with this…difficulty."

"His Lyco-what?" she asked, even more confused.

"You don't have to play dumb with me, Mrs. Dawkins, this isn't the local news. I know all about Tommy's 'hairy' secret, so to speak," Wolff smiled.

"What secret? What are you talking about? What's with my son?" Sally cried out, not far from tears.

For a moment, the two people at the door opening just stared at each other in disbelief.

"Honey, who is it?"

"Mrs. Dawkins, I think we better continue this conversation inside," The rookie FBI agent suggested.

"I think we better do, please come in."

June, 25th 15:02

State U

"I totally blew it," moaned Tommy Dawkins as they left the classroom.  
"Relax Tommy, it's probably not as bad as you think. After all, you had the best tutor to get you ready for the rest!" Merton said to cheer up his friend.

"Mr. Johnson?" asked Tommy surprised.

"No Tommy, me!" Merton replied semi-hurt as they walked towards the exit of the building.

The three tone melody announced a broadcast through the speakers.

"Can Thomas Dawkins please report to the rector's office as soon as possible? Can Thomas Dawkins…"

"Wow Tommy!" interrupted Merton, "I knew you would blow it, but I didn't expect it to be _this_ bad."

"What?!" exclaimed Tommy an octave higher than usual.

"This is your fault, Merton," he said angrily as he grabbed his buddy at the neckline of his shirt.

"You told me to take history class as well this term, I'm going to fail like this," He said as he tightened his grip.

"Two things Tommy. One: air!" the small pale man said, "and two: paws!" he said as he pointed to Tommy's hand, which had turned into a wolf claw, to stress both statements.

Tommy quickly retreated and hid his hands under his armpits as Merton took a theatrical gasp for air.

"Merton, a little help here, please?" Tommy muttered as he tried to prevent his canine teeth being visible.

"First he chokes you, and then he wants your help…"

A visit to the boy's room and a soothing haiku later, Merton tried to drag the quarterback to the rector's office, which wasn't easy to do.

"Oh come on!" tried the Goth, "There's no way this can be about the test, we hardly finished it. It could be about the time you fell asleep twice during the pax romana. Mr. Johnson seemed pretty angry back then. Ok, here it is. Go get them tiger," Merton said as he pushed Tommy into the Rector's room.

Behind the desk sat a man who clearly wasn't the rector, as Tommy noticed. The man sitting in the rector's chair was far younger, slimmer and his hair was still black.

"Ha, Mr. Dawkins, there you are!" the man said as he lit his pipe, "can I call you Tommy?"

"Sure, where's the rector?" asked Tommy.

"I send him home. You see Tommy, you're not here to see the rector, but to see me," the man answered as his pipe started to produce an odd but distantly familiar odour.

"And you are?" wondered Tommy out loud.

"Where are my manners? I'm Jonathan Wolff, I'm with the FBI. Please take a seat." Wolff said friendly.

"The FBI? I can't believe I did it that bad," Tommy sighed as he sat down.

"Did what bad?" inquired the federal agent.

"The test, course," replied Tommy.

Wolff burst out in laughter. He laughed so hard he laid down his pipe to prevent it from falling. Meanwhile Tommy uncomfortably awaited the real reason for this meeting.

"Tommy, we don't concern ourselves with that kind of affairs. I'm here because there is some business we have to deal with regarding you lycanthropy," Jonathan explained.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Tommy nervously. His eyes widened, he held his breath and his heart skipped a beat as he looked to the FBI agent.

"I think you do know quite well," replied Jonathan Wolff as he inspected his canine teeth with his tongue. The man in front of Tommy had turned into a werewolf.

"You're a werewolf too?" exclaimed Tommy, too late noticing this revelation had wolfed him out.

"Calm down, I'm on your side," the were-fed ensured Tommy.

"You can stop eavesdropping on the conversation now and come in, Dingle," he shouted towards the door.

With a painful smile the little Goth entered the room.

"I wasn't really eavesdropping. I just happened to overhear to conversation through the key hole."

Merton sat down next to Tommy as the older werewolf dug up a file from his briefcase that stood next to the desk.

"I've been working on your file for a while now, Tommy, and I'd like to check something. Merton Dingle, here present, and Lori Baxter are the only ones who know about your secret, is that correct?"

"Yes, it is," Tommy simply replied.

"Good. Oh, and before I forget: your parents know it too," Wolf announced.

"What?" shouted the two friends in unison.

"I didn't know you were in college already and I thought you would at least have told your parents about it. How was I supposed to explain where I needed to talk to you?"

"That's some impressive detective work for ya! ...on the other hand, what do I know?" Merton quickly bind as a low growl escaped from Wolff's throat.

"What did my parents say?" asked Tommy worried.

"Well, they were shocked at first, logically, and then they went in denial. When I pointed out the tell-tale signs, the pieces fell together. A classical reaction, really a text book case."

"There's a book on this stuff?" inquired the amazed Tommy.

"Sure, shall I send you a copy?"

"Wait a minute, how do we know you can be trusted?" Merton suddenly asked suspiciously.

"Very good question!" remarked Wolff, "firstly, if I had bad intentions, I would rather ambush you than having a chat in the rector's office. Secondly, I have credentials of His Majesty Warrior-King August I," he continued as took a sealed envelope out of his brief case, together with a small object in red velvet.

"And thirdly, I brought Tommy this, as a token of good will," He finished as he handed it over the gift to Tommy.

"My John Elway rookie card?" Tommy shouted in joy as he unwrapped his former most precious possession.

"Your mum told me it meant so much to you and she never understood why brought it to the pawn shop. I thought you would like to have it back," Jonathan explained, "She also said that she wants you back home for the weekend and that she would –I quote- 'make chicken wings just the way you like it.' On a side note Tommy, I can't lock this office, so you'd better wolf down, just in case," he said as he gave the right example.

"I can't, I'm too worked up by all this," Tommy apologised.

"We'll have to work on that, but for now just take some deep breaths from this," Wolf sai das he handed Tommy his pipe.

"That's no ordinary tobacco, is it?" asked Merton interested as he looked up from the credentials.

It's Wolf's Bane, mostly. Can't tell you the exact ingredients, though I could look it up. It is usually smoked only during full moon, the day before and the day after to keep the wolf down when being outside Lycanthea."

"You're from Lycanthea?" inquired Merton as he tapped the severely coughing inexperienced smoker next to him on the back.

"Yup, I'm the one and only member of His Majesty's Secret Service. I had my training with the Mossad and got send to the FBI to be able to keep an eye on Tommy, which is my main task for now."

"So, you're like, the James Bond werewolf? Cool," Tommy said as he gave back the pipe as he had become completely fur free.

"Yeah, I am, basically," laughed Wolff.

"But why you need to keep an eye on Tommy? He's doing pretty fine as a lone wolf, with my help, of course," Merton pointed out.

"This is true, but there's a lot you don't know about being a werewolf and the fact Tommy can't change back on any given moment, just proves there are some essential skills he lacks. No offence," the federal agent explained.

"So, you're gonna teach me werewolf stuff?" Tommy asked.

"Yes, I will, but not today. I think this was quite enough information to digest, so I'll keep the rest for our weekly meetings we're going to have, starting Friday next week. I'll contact you for time and location; I haven't found anything suitable yet. But I'll give you this already," Wolff said as he handed Tommy a card of the size of a credit card.

"This will be your "Get Out Of Jail Free'-card. The first number is my office phone if you just have a question; it has voice mail in case I'm out. The second number is my cell, but only calls it in serious emergencies."

"What kind of emergencies?" Tommy wanted to know.

"Life threatening situations, an attack of some kind, or worse, the media. Secrecy of our existence has the highest priority. What brings me to this address," wolff showed below the phone numbers.

"This is the address of a local bank were I rented a safe despot box on your name, with a fancy digital lock: the combination is in the water mark. In the deposit box is a bag with some necessities if you'd need to leave the country fast in a worst-case scenario: a fair amount of cash in several currencies, some credit cards, a very good fake Canadian passport and a list of safe destinations." Wolff explained.

"Canadian?"

"Yes, Tommy, Canadian. It's the only credible nationality for you besides American."

"And what about me?" asked Merton.

"Yeah, I can't just leave Merton behind if things would get that wild," Tommy added.

Wolff fell silent and just stared from Merton and Tommy for a moment.

"That's a bit embarrassing. I heard some rumours in Pleasantville, but I just disregarded them as being rumours. So much for the detective work, huh?" Wolff said.

Now it was Tommy's and Merton's turn to fell silent for a moment.

"Are you saying that they're saying we are…?"

"But we're not!"

"Certainly not! It's just absurd!"

"We're just friends."

"Best friends, for that matter."

"Yeah, but it's not like…"

"No!"

"I don't know where they're getting this!"

"Okay! Okay! I got! You're not but I still need to get an extra passport, I got the message!" Wolff interrupted. He leaned back in his chair to ponder how to solve this problem.

"I should be able to get my hand on an Irish passport in two months' time…" he thought out loud.

"I'd _love _to have an Irish passport," interrupted Merton, "I always wanted to go to the republic of Eire!"

"Hold your horses, buddy. These documents are meant for doom scenarios that hopefully will never occur, not for your holiday plans!"

"No exceptions?" Merton asked with a pouty face.

"No exceptions whatsoever," said Wolff sternly.

"Alright," said Merton, but he clearly thought something else.

"Now let's call it a day," Wolff continued as he got up.

"I will see you next week, Tommy?" asked the federal werewolf as they shook hands.

"Sure thing, Mr Wolff!" answered Tommy happily.

"Please, call me Jonathan. No need to be formal between werewolves." Jonathan said.

"Hey John, can I come too?" asked the Goth.

"Suit yourself."

The two friends walked in silence on campus, until Merton noticed the big grin on Tommy's face.

"What you're smiling at?" he inquired.

"Mum's making chicken wings the way I like it, Merton."


End file.
